Restarting a Creative Practice
Friday was Nelle's birthday. 11 years since she died.
I can't help but mark this year compared to last year, in particular. Last year was the 10-year anniversary of her birth and death, and I was only about six weeks post-brain surgery. I wasn't working yet. I was still so tired, with terrible vision issues, lots of stiffness in my face, and impaired talking, smiling, and eating. Those things were all getting better, but six weeks was still very much in the throes of recovery.
The day passed without much fanfare. In past years, I've struggled with working on her birthday. Sometimes I'll think I'm fine, and then I'm really caught off guard by my feelings. Last year was obviously different because of the surgery recovery. But before that, I got smart enough to block the day off on my calendar. I could plan to not work that day, and nobody could schedule meetings with me. That’s what happened this year — I really didn't have any client work to do.
In the morning, I met with a friend on a video call. We chat regularly, and there was a really beautiful painting behind her that I hadn't seen before (she was in a different part of her house). She told me her grandfather had painted it, and we started talking about the artistic people in our families. I told her that years ago I had taken up watercolor painting, even though I have no artistic background. I can't even draw, but for some reason I really wanted to paint. I got really into it; I was painting all the time, usually in the morning and sometimes again in the evening, listening to audiobooks while I worked. But then the pandemic hit, and I was losing my mind with the kids being home, so I gave up the hobby. It just kind of fell away.
Looking at my free afternoon, I thought, “You know what? I'm going to try painting again.” I had to comb through my supplies to see what was still good. But watercolors are actually fine even after several years of no use. I could just add more water and reactivate them. One particular product I use, masking fluid, had dried up. But we always get a cake for Nelle’s birthday, and there is an art supplies store right next to Whole Foods. So I picked up a new bottle.
Over the years, I hear from fewer and fewer people on her birthday. My parents always reach out. And a friend of mine — a fellow loss mama — always sends me a message on Nelle's birthday. She asked if we got the traditional cake, and I told her that we had. Her own stillborn son's birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks.
After arriving home, I sat down with my watercolor paints and a reference photo. I always work from a reference, often a photo I’ve taken myself. I had printed out a stack of photos years ago to use for inspiration, and I still had them.
I'd forgotten how long watercolor takes. I’d paint a layer or two and let it dry, then adjust and let it dry again. It's an ongoing process. I didn't finish, but my little outdoor scene has some sky and some grass. It felt really fitting to restart my creative work on Nelle's birthday.
Friday nights in our house are always kind of a free-for-all for dinner. Everybody grabs whatever food they want, like leftovers or something from the freezer. Around 6:30, we lit a little candle, sang happy birthday to Nelle, and enjoyed the cake.
Autumn told me that she talked to Nelle during the day. I told her that I believe our loved ones can still hear us after they’ve gone.